Invisible Strings
by Rainbow Stevie
Summary: She makes a point of not dating the men she works with. [Character study within a character study, mainly Horatio & Calleigh] [Oneshot]


Disclaimer: So, funny story. One day I found this adorable bunch of angst-ridden characters, and they were so cute I was going to keep them for my very own, but then I realized they came with little tags that said "property of Jerry Bruckheimer/Anthony Zuiker/Ann Donahue. If found, please return to the nearest CBS official." So I guess I have to send them back…just as soon as I'm done playing with them. :)

Notes: Muse pulled this out of the air one day last summer, and she's been whining at me to finish up and post it ever since. I finally gave in.

Set: End of season 3/beginning of season 4

**Invisible Strings**

She makes a point of not dating the men she works with, because there are always complications and invisible strings, and she left complications behind in the fair state of Louisiana. Or tried to.

John Hagen was the first man to break that rule for her, and she still didn't know if she'd really loved him or she was just lonely, because her work didn't leave a lot of free time to go looking. Figured a detective was as good a compromise as she could make under the circumstances.

In the end it fizzled out, the way it had always been destined to fail, and she'd never dared look any closer to her colleagues: Speedle betrayed by his own gun, Eric's temper getting him in more scrapes than he'll ever admit, Ryan still trying to find his place among them…or the lieutenant himself.

She watched him speaking to the young woman who couldn't have been more than 25, who was shaking his hand in both of hers, sincerity plain on her face and gratitude shining from her eyes. Calleigh didn't recognize whether she had been part of the investigation or simply a victim's family member; she and Horatio had been working separate cases for the past week. The details didn't really matter. She'd seen the same look on dozens of other women in every age group.

He tended to have that effect. The first time you met him, if he told you things were going to be all right, you believed him. He could promise the impossible, and you'd still believe he could make it happen. Calleigh knew the look, all right. Not only gratitude, but also a vague enchantment. As far as she knew, he never did anything to encourage it beyond a friendly, compassionate smile, but even the married women fell in love with him a little bit. Not seriously, and not in a head-over-heels kind of way, but so subtly that even they might not have recognized the feeling for what it was.

But it was there, that much Calleigh was sure of, even as she watched him reach out to tickle the cheek of the baby on the woman's hip, bidding goodbyes. She averted her gaze before he could turn and find her watching, busy studying a page of test results as mother and child walked into the elevator and disappeared from sight.

Her own biological clock appeared to have fallen by the wayside, or maybe she'd just found a way to silence its ticking. That's not to say she had planned on or even resigned herself to the idea that she would never raise a family; life just hadn't worked out that way, at least not yet. She had a career she loved and was happy to keep it front and center; only occasionally did she consider hypothetical futures.

Horatio would make a wonderful father. That much was apparent to anyone who had ever seen him speak to a child. Whether or not she could ever pursue a relationship with him was open for debate. There had been a hint of flirting between them once upon a time, playful and utterly harmless, that had vanished with the arrival of Yelina and not been seen since. It was probably better for both sides of their working relationship if she didn't melt at the sight of him. Still she wondered, briefly, if it had ever crossed his mind before deciding it was too dangerous a line of thought to pursue any farther.

Just like she wasn't going to think about John's eyes, empty and lifeless, gazing towards heaven from behind closed lids. If he'd fallen facedown, would he have been staring at hell? She likes to believe the position of his body makes a difference in his final destination, even though it's all just a matter of physics and scientific principle.

It's the end of shift, the end of the day and the week along with it. Ryan is heading down the hall towards her, but she pretends she doesn't see him, either. Not in a mood for company, and doesn't want to have to shoot him down.

After all, they call her Bullet Girl.


End file.
